Amnesia
by Ceara Ivory
Summary: Due to a minor accident during a meeting, Voldemort has AMNESIA! And somehow he makes it to Diagon Alley, with only one thing on his mind, the only thing he can remember on his own, Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

Amnesia by Chibikan

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.

SUMMARY: A cute idea I thought up while sweeping this morning at work, Voldemort is in a minor accident caused by one of his more clumsy followers and awakes with amnesia and somehow makes his way to London, to Diagon Alley, with only one name on his mind, Harry Potter.

Prologue:

"Ughhhh…….." The Dark Lord groaned, with a pounding headache, in his large, comfortable bed.

He tried to look around, but things were out of focus. He saw instead several forms fighting their way to his side as he fought for consciousness. What had happened? How had he gotten there? A wheezy voiced man was mopping his forehead as he mumbled nonsense. Another shadowy figure hovered over him as someone tried to push him aside.

It was when the wheezy man managed to fall forward, pushed by another, on top of him that he finally heard real voices saying real words.

"Wormtail! You great oaf, get out of here, you're only making things worse!" said a man with a haughty tone. "Master, are you alright?" He took the place of the man called Wormtail.

The Dark Lord was finally able to focus. He was able to deduce that somehow he'd gotten a head injury and was obviously suffering a slight concussion. He saw at his side a man with long, platinum blonde hair. "What….what happened?"

"You fell Master, fell and hit your head. It was Wormtail's fault!"

Voldemort nodded. "Oh, and you are?" He struggled, he couldn't seem to remember the man's name. He knew he should, but he couldn't.

The blonde looked uncomfortable. "It's me, Master, Malfoy."

Another nod. "Yes, Malfoy, that's right. One more question."

"Yes, Master?"

"Who am I?"

AN: Yes, I know this is short, just like all my others. But you get the idea, it's just a prologue, and that is two new stories in one day. This one promises to be a good one. Please R&R


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Voldemort lay in his bed, confused, scared, and unsure of anything. The men who had been in here with him had shortly after left, saying they needed to discuss the present situation. He couldn't remember anything,

and it frightened him out of his mind. What was he to do? Massaging his throbbing temples, the man thought hard, until a face and a name flashed through his mind. Harry Potter. And then a place……if only he could find a way there. Stepping cautiously out of the bed and putting on a set of robes that he found in his closet, he left, quietly. He walked out to the corner of the vast estate, now he had no idea where to go. The winds, characteristic of the area, were cold despite it being near the end of August, prompting to cover his face with the hood of his cloak. He struggled to figure out what he should do, and for some reason concluded that he needed to hold up the stick in his robes, outward, and wait.

A blinding set of lights appeared not far from where he stood. The sound like that of train caught the man off guard as an enormous three-decker bus nearly run him over. The door opened.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus….." Stan Shunpike recited in monotone, as if bored with the job.

Voldemort, looking awed, stepped onto the bus, fumbling through his cloak for the few odd coins in them, and took a seat, instinctually grabbing onto one of the bars next to the bed he'd chosen. Something told him he was in for a bumpy ride.

Later that day, in a huge hustling, bustling, business district, by the name of Diagon Alley…..

"Hurry up guys, we gotta get to Fred and George's shop!" Ron urged his group. His brothers owned a new joke shop, one that was quickly becoming the most successful in Diagon Alley.

Harry, Ron's best friend, hurried to be beside the redhead, he too wanted to get to the shop. "Ron, don't worry, we'll all get there."

Voldemort exited through the small bar, asking someone to let him into the alley, as his gut told him that he needed a password or something and he just couldn't remember it. He entered the odd place. It was chock full of strange people, all dressed as he was, only their cloaks and robes were much more colorful, much more bright, which his head just wasn't enjoying. He pushed his way through the people, knowing he must seem disoriented to them. He only hoped that he would be able to find this person, Harry Potter.

" Excuse me, sir, do you need help, are you lost?" asked the kind sounding voice of a woman. He turned to the side and put his hand to his head at the increase in pain.

He looked at her. "Harry Potter….." Voldemort told her, the only thing he could think of to say, before he stumbled forward, then backward, losing his hood.

The scream from the woman only more pain. "IT'S YOU-KNOW-WHO! HE'S IN THE ALLEY HELP!"

Voldemort looked at her. "Wait! Please……who…..?" He had no way of knowing what or who she was screaming about. He grabbed her sleeve.

"EEEEE GET OFF ME! HELP ME!" She flung him from her.

He stumbled back again, in surprise and now a rising fear. He stumbled about, in a run, only receiving screams from every direction he went. There was only one thing going on in his mind. "Help me someone, please….." He ran, awkwardly, only getting more lost before collapsing in an alley behind a small shop. He shook, and fought tears. "Someone help me please……"

The backdoors to the shop opened and out stepped a group, not even noticing him, too in a hurry to escape the obvious danger. They were a group of redheads, one with brown, and finally…..a familiar face, though he was too upset to notice. It was a boy with a mop of messy black hair, wearing what appeared to be a baggy shirt and a pair of pants in the same baggy fashion. The boy ran past him too, or started to, until, something seemed to stop him. The frightened man looked up slowly, into the wide green eyes of the boy he'd been searching for. Maybe this had been a mistake, maybe this boy would be scared of him too. Just like the woman, and everyone he had run into in his panic to get away from the screaming. Or worse, maybe this boy would refuse to help him, or even hurt him. Maybe that's what everyone did here. His tears fell faster and he shook harder as he looked into those cold green eyes. He tried to scoot up closer to his wall, and to hide in his cloak. He even made it so he didn't have to look into those eyes.

A shadow covered him and a moment later he heard a voice. "Come on, let's get you inside." It was the boy he noted. He uncovered his face and looked into this time, a kind face and a hand outstretched in invitation. Hesitantly, silently, he took the hand and allowed the boy to lead him into the shop.

AN: Well, okay so maybe this isn't gonna be as funny as I first planned it to be. I know he seems OOC, but imagine how you'd feel in his position. I had thought it would make a funny story, but the more I thought about it, I realized that amnesia is serious business. He's hurt, and scared, and confused, and lost, and with no one who will help him. Sorry, I'm ranting. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please R&R


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

The boy took Voldemort into the now closed shop. Both were silent while the boy set the man in a chair and found a basin which he filled with cool water in the bathroom. The man could only watch the boy, his fear ever present. He eyed the boy with uncertainty as he sat in front of him, dipping a cloth in the cool water. Voldemort flinched visibly and cowered momentarily when the boy attempted to dab the coolness on his burning face. But after a moment, he leaned into the gentle touch of the boy, letting him wash away the drying tears. The fear began to dissipate, with the knowledge that this boy was not hurting him in any way but was instead helping him.

"Before you ask, I don't know why I'm doing this." The boy stated. "What are you even doing here?"

Voldemort opened his burning eyes, burning with the remnants of unshed tears. "You……"

The boy snorted. "Well that's obvious….but what do you want with me?"

"You….you know who….I am…" He felt it was a simple enough statement.

"Of course I who you are, so does the rest of the world."

"You really do know…… tell me…please…who am I? No one will tell me." Voldemort pleaded.

The boy's eyes widened as they had outside. "You mean, you don't know?" He asked.

Just then the doors opened and jingled, announcing the return of the boy's crew. Voldemort cringed and tried to hide behind the boy.

The boy turned to them. "Well, you guys find anything? Any sign of him?" He asked, with a knowing tone.

The eldest man, a man with a balding head save for shocks of red hair on the sides of it, shook his head in the negative. "No, it seems it was a false alarm."

"Harry, who is that hiding behind you?" Asked a girl, another with red hair and lots of freckles.

Another boy moved to the side of the one called Harry and looked into the face of Voldemort. "HARRY! It's him! Run!" The boy yelled pulling out a baton-type object.

Harry shook his head as everyone else did the same. "No Ron, guys, don't!" He intervened. "Don't."

Voldemort only tried to hide further, this time crawling to the floor and burying himself in his robes. He had to hide. These people were going to hurt him, he had to hide.

"There is something wrong with him." He heard the boy called Harry, explain to the people. "He doesn't know who I am, or even who he is."

"But Harry! It's Voldemort," Voldemort, so that was his name, he wasn't sure if he liked it. "The Dark Lord, what if he is trying to trick you into dropping your guard?" asked the one Harry had named Ron. "He's been trying to kill you since forever, after all." Kill him? He had been trying to kill the boy? But why? It did not make sense. The boy was kind to him. Why would he kill him? Why would he kill anyone? He was so confused.

"No Ron, I don't think so. Mr. Weasley, I think he has amnesia. We can't hurt him. It wouldn't be right."

"But Harry, he's evil, he killed your parents!" Protested a deeper voice, he assumed that was the former mentioned, Mr. Weasley. He had killed the boy's parents. But that…was impossible, wasn't it? He couldn't remember anything about himself, but he sincerely hoped he wasn't a killer.

"I know that, Mr. Weasley. But…even so, he came to Diagon Alley, looking for me…for my help."

It was all too much. He couldn't take it anymore! His head hurt too much and he was far too confused! All he could do was to let the once more building tears fall and the sobs come. He heard footsteps and heard someone sit down next to him.

"It's alright, I won't let anything happen, don't hide." implored the kind voice of the boy who helped him.

Voldemort looked at Harry, feeling much like a child, but at the same time he didn't care. Surely, in his situation, he had the right to sob and to reach out in desperation for someone. And he did. He latched onto the boy and sobbed.

AN: Well, there is Chapter 2. Poor Voldy-sama. He thought he found sanctuary but right after is practically attacked, and then accused of murder. Yes, he is behaving like a child, but with his condition, he pretty much is one. With no memory, he must go back to square one and learn who he is. Can he make himself a new identity to counter these wicked accusations? We'll find out. R&R

Next chapter

Harry and Voldemort are taken to the Burrow, where Mrs. Weasley fusses over the injured Voldemort, despite misgivings. Harry tells Voldemort who he is. And Voldemort makes a decision, while becoming ever more clingy.


	4. Chapter 4

Amnesia

Chapter 3

Voldemort was not aware of the looks he was receiving. All he knew was that he needed this. But more important, he needed help. He was so lost, so confused. He was only vaguely aware when he was lifted to his feet and was guided to the fireplace. And he was most assuredly not expecting to be led into to fire, gently, by Harry, who took the opportunity to proclaim how much he hated floo travel. The man agreed, it was a horrid way to get around. However, he could not possibly miss the squeals of an overexcited woman who at first screamed, like the rest, until she got a real good look at him and saw something was off.

"My goodness, what happened to all of you! And you!" She demanded causing Voldemort to cringe. She was loud and he STILL had a headache. "Sit!" He obeyed immediately, sitting in an available kitchen chair. This woman was frightening. "Now, I don't know what you doing here, and I don't know what's going on, but I know that I do NOT like that nasty bump on your head. You stay there."

Voldemort looked around anxiously, but made no move to defy the woman. He did however look to find Harry, who was sitting on the couch talking with his friends. He was too far away for his liking, but still he stayed put. He bolted upright when he felt something on his head. It was cold.

"Sometimes muggle remedies are best." The woman stated. "After all, you should never use a healing spell on a body part so close to the brain. Now, I put in a call to Dumbledore, he should be here soon, he'll know how to deal with you."

The red-eyed man look at her. "Dumbledore? Who is Dumbledore?"

The woman looked suspicious and looked directly into his eyes, as if searching for something. "Merlin, he's telling the truth. It's not an act." She stated in shock at the revelation. "Well, no matter. Since you have no idea, I am Molly Weasley. Now you must be starved." She placed a plate full of food in front of him. "Here's some of my shepherd's pie."

Voldemort looked at the food. Well he was hungry. And he had an inward feeling he could trust this woman. He looked back over to the sofa, to make sure Harry was still fairly close, in case he needed to hide.

He had just finished eating when the fire roared to life and out stepped not one, but two strangers. A man, a very old man, with a long white beard and even longer white hair, and a woman in matronly garb. Almost instantly he was out of his seat and hiding behind the couch where Harry sat. It just wasn't normal for a person to exit a fireplace, he just knew it. And these people seemed very formidable. He wanted nothing to do with them.

"Ahh, Professor Dumbledore, how good to see you here so quickly. And Poppy!" Molly hugged both of them in welcome.

Dumbledore took out a package of candies and nodded to Molly, offering her one. "Yes, I came as soon as I could manage it. Where is he?"

They all looked around, noticing he had disappeared, seemingly. Until Harry thought to look directly behind him that is. "Um, he's right here Professor." He looked back down at the lump of black robes cowering behind him. "Now come on, it's alright, that's the headmaster of my school and he's never hurt a body yet. Get up here, that's bad for your back."

Voldemort slowly stood, his eyes wide as though he was a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Harry said that this man was safe, so he'd believe him.

"Well, I can find nothing wrong, save for a slight concussion and of course the amnesia." Pomfrey explained once she had finished her examination.

Molly nodded. "But is there a way to cure the amnesia? After all, the poor man doesn't even remember his own name by himself."

Pomfrey shrugged. "Well there is a memory serum, but I don't like to prescribe it. If a person with amnesia regains his memory too fast, it could cause permanent damage. No, I prefer to do this old fashioned way. He must be kept near familiar things and people. Someone he's known for a very long time should stay with him." She put a finger to her chin and went digging in her bag. "But I do prescribe these," She put some vials on the table. "A potion for the pain, if it gets to be bothersome, you should expect a headache here and there, and a potion for the concussion. He is to stay in bed for three days, and fed heartily. No meals are to be missed. These potions will not work on an empty stomach." Poppy demanded. She shifted back to the patient. "Now, you, take these potions and up to bed with you. I'll have you some more of these in the morning."

Harry stood. "He can stay with me in Percy's room." He offered. He strode over to the Dark Lord before anyone could protest. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason he felt a sort of responsibility to him. He helped the man to his feet and led him to the small room that he had, now that Percy no longer lived at home, and helped him into the second bed, which was put there just in cast Percy decided to come home. "You can sleep here." He told him.

Voldemort looked at him. "I hear you talk, about me…."

"Yeah?" Harry asked as he got some linens from the closet just out the door.

"Am…..I….a bad person?"

Harry thought, how did one answer that question. He could tell that the answer meant a lot to the man before him, making him realize that he might have the chance to change fate. Maybe…. "Well, technically you're not now, you can't exactly be held responsible for crimes you can't remember, right?"

"Then it is true, I am a killer……" Voldemort gripped his hands into fists as he sat on his knees on the hard wood floor. He bent his head in shame. "I am a killer…."

The boy nodded. "Yes, you've killed many people, including my parents….."

"Then why do you help me? Why are you so kind to me when I have obviously hurt you greatly?"

"Because, like I said, you don't remember it, so I can't hold you responsible. Actually, there's a prophecy that says I'm supposed to kill you, and so you tried to kill me before it could come to be. Well, now you're vulnerable, but I don't believe in kicking a man when he's down. My parents would kill me, I'm sure if I took advantage of this situation. I know they would want me to be better than that. And I'd be in even worse trouble if I just left you in Diagon Alley where someone else might take advantage of this. So….here we are. And I will help you, until you regain your memory, I'll be right with you."

Voldemort nodded and allowed Harry to help him into bed. He crawled under the extra blanket the boy had provided him and was almost instantly asleep.

Harry watched as his arch nemesis fell straight, sleeping what looked to be the most comfortable sleep he'd had in ages. Harry couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this himself. He should be trying to take out Voldemort while he could but instead, he was helping him and promising to stay by his side in his time of need. What would the rest of his friends think, Remus, or the rest of the order? Well, they'd have to get over it. He had been sure about one thing. If his parents had been alive and he had left a sick Voldemort out to possibly be killed in his vulnerable state, he would have been grounded until his own dying day. He'd be sure to do as he promised, for their sakes, for his sake. He just knew it would only lead to something good. After all, Dumbledore had said his hidden power was love, so what did any of them expect.

END CHAPTER

AN: Yea another chapter, and a long one at that. I am currently looking for someone who can make this into a doujinshi-type thing. Please email me to the email in my profile if you're interested. And if there is something you'd like to see in this, please tell me. Oh, I'm considering bringing in a girlfriend for Voldy later. Hope you like, please r&r.

Next Chapter: Voldemort is given a more manageable form, to disguise his identity from prying eyes. Severus Snape finds out, and Harry realizes a few things.


	5. Chapter 5

Amnesia

Chapter 4

Harry waited until he was sure the man was sound asleep, then he quietly tiptoed out and back down the stairs. His best friend Ron met him at the bottom of the stairs. He could see the worry written on his face.

"He's asleep." Harry told him. "And he didn't do anything to hurt me." He added, knowing exactly what was bothering his friend.

Ron nodded. "You know, you're my best friend, I….uhhh….can't help but….worry….you know." He stammered, trying to keep his machoness. "So, you're gonna help him huh? Even after everything he's done?"

"Yes Ron. I could never say no after seeing him sobbing in that alley. He came to me for help. If I turn him away, I'm no better. So, I'll help him. And maybe when he does remember, he'll remember this too and how I helped him and realize he's been wrong, but even if he doesn't, even if my hopes are in vain, well, then….I don't know."

Ron sighed. "Well mate, whatever you feel is right, I'm with you all the way." He smiled. He had abandoned his friend once before and he'd nearly died from the loneliness. He wouldn't make that mistake again. "Except you realize that your social life is basically shot to hell right?" He laughed heartily at his own admission.

Harry laughed too, despite how right Ron was. "Oh well, never had much of one to begin with I guess."

The two of them headed into the living room where Pomfrey was dishing out last minute instructions. How often to administer the concussion remedy and how much to give of the pain potion. And of course to only use the name Voldemort, so as not to confuse him and he had already been referred to as such by some of them. Any more than one name thrust on him would totally throw his recovery out of sync.

"So, what should I do?" Harry asked. He needed to know exactly what he would need to do. He obviously couldn't take the man to school with him and it appeared he'd have to be with him almost twenty four/seven. "And what about school, it starts next week and I know it's too much to hope he'd have his memory back by then."

Pomfrey and Dumbledore both looked at Harry.

Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Am I to take it that you want to be the one to help him through this, Harry?" He received a nod in reply. "I must warn you that this is a great risk that you take. He could regain his memory at anytime and more than likely, when he does, he'll kill you at the first presented opportunity."

"I'm sure Headmaster. You said my greatest weapon was love right? Well, let me put it to a proper test."

The twinkle sparkled ever more so in the man's eye. "Your parents would be so proud of you. Very well, I will have the papers drawn up this afternoon."

"Papers?"

"Yes, if you are to nurse him back to health, you will need to be away from school to do so. And preferably away from prying wizard eyes. So you will need emancipation. That will allow you to perform needed magic and to get a flat in London."

"He won't need to do that, Headmaster." came a familiar voice from the seat over.

Harry looked over to see Remus. "Professor Lupin!" He exclaimed in joy.

"Hello Harry. But, you won't need a flat of your own Harry. You can use mine." Remus offered. "After all, I won't need it if I am teaching, right Headmaster?"

They were just reaching a decision when loud, fearful shouts rang out from the upstairs. Harry was immediately bolting up the stairs. He came to the bedroom and opened the door to find Voldemort awake and shaking and weeping, covered in a cold sweat. Upon seeing Harry, he reached out and looked at him with a pleading expression. Harry crossed the room and held the man's hands, like he supposed a parent would do.

"It's alright, it was just a nightmare." He explained. "I get them too."

Voldemort shook his head. "Not like this. Horrible, I…I don't want to….to kill people….please Harry, don't make me be bad again! I don't want to hurt people, don't let me remember!"

Harry rubbed his back and muttered soothing words. "Don't worry, you don't have to hurt people if you really don't want to." He told him.

Pomfrey came and felt Voldemort's forehead for fever. "Well, your nightmare didn't leave any the worse for wear, and I don't want to mix the potions already in your system. Perhaps you would sleep easier with Mr. Potter here."

Voldemort again looked pleadingly at the boy, to which he could nod his consent. Slowly he let himself lay back down. And without another word he was asleep again.

Ron, Remus, and Dumbledore also stayed with them. There was more to discuss and Ron wasn't going to let Harry do this on his own.

"Maybe, Dumbledore, we should also see about papers for Mr. Weasley here too." Remus suggested. "My flat is large enough for three people, and it would be easier to deal with the man's problems. One of them has to be able to leave the house for groceries, after all." He joked, trying to make light of the situation.

AN: Okay, I'm cutting it off here, I'm writing on borrowed energy now. I must sleep. If it's not as good as the other chapters, well, that's because I'm sleep deprived. Hope y'all like. Night y'all.


	6. Chapter 6

Amnesia (currently considering a new title)

Chapter 5

Several days later found the three of them moving into Remus' flat. They (the two boys) had indeed been provided with emancipation documents that would allow to move as adults. They were no longer considered children in either world. It would surely be an interesting experience, to say the least.

"Well, this is nice." Ron said, for lack of anything else to say, as he yawned. Moving was hard work, and they couldn't use magic because of too many muggles around. And it didn't help that he'd had about ten hours sleep the last five days.

Harry nodded, with Voldemort standing directly behind him. The man was with him where ever he went, excepting the bathroom and shower, and only because Harry had explained the need of privacy. Ronhad a good laugh about it too, shortly followed by Harry calling him a prat and slapping him upside the head. "It is. Well, let's pick out our rooms and then come back here. We have some planning to do, still."

Harry took the room between in the middle, a fair sized room with a bath connecting it and the far right one. Ron took the one to it's left, putting the amnesiac Dark Lord at the last one. After getting their belongings situated in the rooms, they met in the living room.

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked.

Harry thought. "Well, for one, we may be able to do magic out of school now, the two of us, but we're only going to use it in extreme emergencies. There's no reason at all we can't get by as muggles. Secondly, the two of us have to get jobs, and since one of us should always be home with him," Harry gestured to Voldemort, who was firmly planted on the floor beside his chosen easy chair, not listening to a word and being completely silent. "One of us should have a day job and the other, a night job."

Ron shook his head at that. "No, Harry. I'll be the one of us working. He'll barely let you go to the bathroom without him tagging along. So I'll be the one to get a job. I saw several hiring signs on the way here. And they looked like good paying ones. We only need it to keep up appearances anyway." He was right. To avoid money problems, Harry had gotten half of his vault transferred to muggle money and put into a muggle bank account, jointly under both their names. The job was just to keep people from questioning why a wealthy duo like them were living in a borrowed flat with a seemingly senile old man.

"But that wouldn't be fair…." Harry started. He felt that if one had to work the other should to.

"No Harry, let's face it. You're the only one who can help him. He doesn't trust me like he does you." Of course he left it unsaid that he didn't trust Voldemort either. "If you're gone during the day, and he needs you, what can I do? And if you're gone at night and he has another nightmare, who's gonna get him back to sleep. You know not even Dreamless Sleep works on him unless you're by his bedside. I'm the one to get the job, and you're the one to stay home and do cleaning and cooking and such." Ron's tone left no room for argument. He was serious.

Harry finally agreed. "You're right about the "senile old man" thing though. I wonder if there's something we can do to make him less intimidating. Maybe a de-aging potion or a spell of some kind. I'll floo call Dumbledore later about it. The first thing we should do is check the supplies. Remus said he had plenty of food, but we should still be sure."

The two of them spent the whole rest of the day discussing what they should do. Voldemort just sat, pretending not to ignore them. He felt like a burden. Like he was forcing himself on the two boys. After learning more about himself from Harry, more than he'd ever care to, he'd had a hole of guilt eating him up inside. He couldn't remember it, not really, but he knew that somewhere deep inside, he did. Something buried deep inside of his mind remembered, and most of the rest didn't like it. He knew he had no right to cling to Harry as he did. But, what else could he do? What choice did he have?

AN: Okay, again, not as good as the other chapters, but still pretty deep. I might bring in Vernon Dursley soon, the King of Creeps himself. Tell me what you think and what you'd like to see out of this.

NEXT: Ron gets a job, Voldemort has another nightmare prompting a long discussion from Harry


	7. Chapter 7

Amnesia

Chapter 6

The rest of the day passed without event. Harry even cooked a supper that was edible, even if it was just macaroni and cheese. Voldemort even helped with some much needed cleaning, to Ron's amazement. For some reason he thought the guy would just sit back and freeload off them.

However, that night was not as peaceful. Voldemort was sleeping soundly in his comfortable bed.

He opened his eyes to find himself in a burning town square. He was surrounded by men and women with their wands pointed at him, waving torches, and for some reason, pitchforks.

"YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!"

"YOU TORTURED MY PARENTS TO INSANITY!"

"I'VE LOST MY ENTIRE FAMILY TO YOU!"

The man shouted back. "No, no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. Please….." he fell to the ground, huddling at the foot of a statue. He looked at the statue. It was glaring down at him too, aiming a great stone wand at him.

The screaming continued, people accusing and damning him. They began rushing him. Beating at him, cursing him, slicing him with their forks and burning him with their torches. He screamed, shouted, cried in pain and fear, for help, from anyone.

"No! Please!"

"Voldemort, wake up!" Came a cry breaking into his dreams.

He snapped up in his bed, shaking and shivering with cold sweat. Tears coursed down his cheeks. He opened his eyes and looked into the kind, green orbs of his only protector, his only defender.

The boy's eyes peered into his, as if trying to see what he had dreamed. "You're alright, it was just a nightmare, just another bad dream."

The man fell into the boy sobbing. "I'm sorry…..I'm sorry….I'm sorry." He kept repeating, over and over, as the boy took to rocking him gently, patting his back and rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hands.

"It's alright, I'm right here." The boy's words assured him again and again.

The man pulled away. "Why, why do you stay? You told me I killed your parents, you should hate me. Just like everyone else does." Voldemort insisted. "You should hate me…."

Harry felt a twinge in himself. He thought that about himself a lot. He blamed himself for his parents' death. After all, Voldemort had been after him, not them. He blamed himself for Sirius' death. If he hadn't gone after that vision, if he had only practiced occlumency better. He realized that he and Voldemort weren't that different. Take away the tough exterior and peal away the veil the old man put over himself, and you had just a frightened, lonely child, begging to be loved.

"Why do I stay? Well….other than the fact that you need me. You're the only person to ever give it to me straight. You never withheld your opinion of me. Even though what you said hurt, despite the fact that you were trying to kill me at the time, you never withheld anything. I never had to doubt whether or not you'd show up sometime during the year. I know it sounds awful, but you've always been the ONE constant in my life." Harry admitted, ashamed that he actually felt that way, as true as it was. "And not just that. We're almost just a like. We're just a pair of orphans, who grew up in a world of hate and bigotry only to find we're meant for bigger greater things only then to find that the hate and bigotry we sought to escape just followed us here. Let's face it, this wizard's war isn't your fault, not entirely. Your followers did not honestly HAVE to obey your orders. They did not have to join you in the first place." Of course Harry knew he was talking to a brick wall now, after all, the man couldn't remember anything about his past. All he knew was that he was a killer but that Harry would protect him anyways.

Voldemort looked at the boy again, fighting a new waterfall of sobs and fell back into the comforting embrace. Harry felt an even stronger pain inside, like someone had taken a ply wrench to his heart and just twisted it. And he couldn't stop a few tears from joining his former arch-enemy's. He knew now, that even if Voldemort still wanted to kill him, when his memory returned, he could never, never fight back.

The next day, Ron did as he had promised and left in search of a job. He went to every single place he could find with 5 blocks of the flat. And he quickly found something out. He was qualified for nothing. He had no skills that a muggle job found useful. He left each and every place even more discouraged than he left the last.

Finally, in exhaustion the redhead collapsed in a cushy seat in a small café. An elderly woman came over to him. "Alo dear" She greeted.

He looked up, she was offering him a menu. "No thanks, I just need a rest."

"ard day, 'eh?" She asked him.

To which he nodded. "Yeah, I'm trying to find a job but no one'll hire me."

The woman shook her head in understanding. "Well don't ya be giving up now son. You'll find something, it just takes time. I'll leave ya to rest a bit." She stood and went to cross over to the counter where a customer had stopped to place an order. She stopped after a few paces and turned around. "Ya know, I could use an extra 'and around here. Probably someone just like you. Ya interested?"

AN: And there you have it, Chapter 6 up and I feel confident about this one. I cried writing the nightmare scene. I hope y'all enjoy this. Tell me, do you think I should get Harry and Ron together? You know, like a couple? It would be my first slash pairing.

NEXT: Ron's first day at his new job, and Harry's adventures in babysitting (Um, I mean Voldy-sitting)


	8. Chapter 8

Amnesia

Chapter 7

"HARRY I DID IT!" Ron shouted as he ran through the door of their fifth floor flat. "I did it!" He sounded incredibly happy with himself.

Harry turned from the soap-filled sink. "Really? Awesome, where at?"

Ron told him all about the café and the proprietor. Apparently she was the only one who worked the place, and she was getting up in years so she needed someone to help out. The pay was generous for the fact that Ron was only sixteen. The place was just a quaint little coffee shop down the way, and it would be close enough just in case an emergency popped up. It was just right. "Well, I just wanted to come tell you. I gotta get back, she wants me to start right away."

Harry shook his head as he turned back to his dishes. He was nearly done too, when an audible pop reached his ears. He turned to see…..

"MASTER HARRY POTTER SIR!" cried a little brown creature wearing all sorts of mismatched clothing as he glomped onto Harry's middle.

"Hello Dobby, how are you?" Harry asked, trying to be polite and breathe at the same time, a difficult task to manage with the house elf.

Dobby pulled away. "Dobby was told to bring this to Master Harry Potter sir, from Dumbledore." Dobby handed a small vial and an envelope to his friend.

Harry said a hurried thanks as he read through the enclosed letter. This would solve their problem with appearances. He would be able to go do the shopping he needed to do now, without people recognizing him or people staring. Not that he was really worried about what anyone looked like, it would indeed be a relief to him in this situation. As Dobby left, Harry went back to the third bedroom, where Voldemort lay as per Pomfrey's continuing order to keep resting as much as possible. "Hey, I got something from Professor Dumbledore today.' He said sitting next to him. Voldemort looked at him questioningly, however trustingly. "It's a potion that'll change your appearance."

"My appearance?"

"Yes, I know you don't remember, but a long time ago, you didn't look like this. You had short dark hair, and blue eyes, and well, you were always pale, but that's what happens when you grow up in a place with little opportunity to go outside, right? But something happened, Dumbledore has yet to tell me what, but he sent me a sort of temporary antidote. It'll give you back your previous youthful appearance. And after, we'll go shopping, you need some muggle clothes and we need some fresh milk and eggs and stuff like that."

Voldemort nodded. "This potion will make people safer around me?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "At least they won't know it's you, so they won't go running around like chickens with their heads cut off." He was glad he had thought of asking Dumbledore for help with this. Voldemort was very leery about going out into public because people were frightened of him the last time he was.

The man cocked his head. "Can chickens run around without their heads?" To which Harry laughed, a deep guttural laugh that reverberated inside the man's heart causing him to descend into laughter as well.

Finally they both calmed down. A feeling of elation kept their moods up though. Neither had laughed like that in a very long time and boy, did it feel good.

"Well, that sure was an interesting image. But you should take the potion so we can get to our errands."

Voldemort took the potion and shuddered at the taste. "Blech, why don't they flavor these?" He asked.

"I don't know, I've been trying to get them to." Harry was astonished to see the man he'd been at odds with since he was one, go from a snake-like thing to a sixteen year old face, like his. It was a beautiful sight to see glimmering blue orbs staring back at him rather than poison-red ones. He found himself caught in their gaze, it was almost hypnotic.

"Did it work?" Asked the blue-eyed man, snapping Harry from his trance.

Harry shook his head to clear it. "Oh, yes, it did. Come on, you can wear some of my things while we're out."

Together the two now young men (or one young, one just young looking) set off into London. Harry took led Voldemort to a men's wear store not too far from the flat. Both tried on several suits and everyday outfits. Voldemort even found he looked pretty good in Armani.

"Pretty darn good actually." The sales lady told him. "Oh, I love trying these suits on guys" She swooned.

Harry nodded in agreement. "That suit does look pretty good on you." He told the man, not sure why he suddenly felt compelled to give this compliment. He told himself it was just because it was true and that Voldemort could really use a confidence boost at the moment.

The man smiled in thanks. "It is nice." Suddenly he jumped, the door had opened and he hadn't expected the bell to ring.

Harry turned towards a familiar clopping footstep. Only one person he knew had that clop in his step. He was suddenly afraid as was shown by his backing up towards Voldemort, wishing this time to be the one to hide in his cloak.

"You! What are you doing here?" demanded a large, beefy faced man. "You're supposed to be at that freak school!"

"Well, um, something came up…..I'm doing a correspondence course this year….." He knew this couldn't end well.

"Well then, you can come with me then…" He grabbed the boy by the collar before anyone could stop him. He dragged the boy out behind an alley. "I'm actually glad to see you boy, I can give you the punishment you deserve!" He raised his fist.

"Wait! What'd I do this time!" He cried out as Vernon began to hit him.

But Vernon didn't answer. He was certifiably insane, Harry had no doubt. He hit the boy and threw him against the brick wall of an abandoned building.

"STOP!" came a shout at the edge of the alley. A blur ran at him and pushed him to the ground.

Harry sat, shaken against the wall as Voldemort saved him from his deranged uncle. He would never have expected that. In fact if someone had told him this would happen, then he would've recommended them to a good psychiatrist.

Voldemort stood over the man. "You leave Harry alone! I won't let you hurt Harry!" He grabbed Vernon up from the ground and wrapped his bony fingers around Vernon's thick neck, starting to crush his wind pipe. He shook in anger.

"NO!" Harry yelled. He had to stop Voldemort before he reverted to ways he couldn't even remember now. "You can't kill him!"

The man released his grip quite suddenly and dropped to the ground, his head splitting. What was this pain. This scene, so familiar. He'd seen something like this somewhere. Harry laying broken and battered, hurt beyond reason. Only he remembered laughter, maniacal wicked laughter that belonged to someone he knew…someone he didn't like.

AN: Well, Vernon's showed up, and we do not like him. But Voldemort saved the day Oh at the suggestion of another, I have decided that this will be slash but with the pairing being HPLV. I agree there are so few of them.

Next: Harry reveals his own skeletons to the Dark Lord. Voldemort starts to remember, slowly. The Death Eaters show up to "rescue" their master. The two grow closer. Could it be love?


End file.
